


The Weather

by cmere



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Radio Station Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:45:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/921080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmere/pseuds/cmere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“What kind of a mood does that song put you in?” Cecil says, going again for the innocent face. Carlos bites his earlobe, not even pretending to be gentle, and Cecil squeaks.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weather

“Mr. Cecil, you have a visitor!” Intern Fernanda calls in a sing-songy voice, swinging the door to the studio open. Cecil spins around and grins when Carlos enters.

“Hey!” 

“Good evening,” Carlos says, and Cecil’s grin gets wider. Carlos’ lexicon is always so proper and scientific.

“Is there anything else you need from me tonight? I wanted to check out the Whispering Forest, if I still have time. Have you gone?” Intern Fernanda says, her hand on the door knob.

“No, I haven’t! Have a great time! You’re done for the night,” Cecil says, standing up and rushing over to vigorously shake her hand. “Thanks again for all your hard work.”

“No problem. See you tomorrow,” Intern Fernanda says, glancing once more at Carlos as she exits, closing the door behind her. Cecil turns back to Carlos, still grinning.

“Isn’t it the forest that nobody comes back from?” Carlos says, looking at the door.

“Oh, shit. You’re right. I probably should have said something,” Cecil says and flings the door open again. The hallway is empty. “She’s gone.” He shrugs.

“Probably forever,” Carlos points out, and Cecil shakes his head, shutting the door behind him again. 

“You’re such a pessimist. What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting later!” Cecil reaches out and takes Carlos’ hand between both of his, swinging it back and forth between them. “I just finished the show. I was going to head home to change but I got distracted on facebook. There’s this new cat video—do you want to see?”

“Maybe later,” Carlos says, his face an impasse. Cecil is continually impressed with his ability to remain ambivalent about cat videos. “I heard the show. That’s why I’m here.”

“Oooh, you were listening?” Cecil says. He swings Carlos’ arm higher and faster. “Did you like it? God, I’m so glad I never know when you’re listening. I’d get so nervous if I thought about it! Like, Carlos is listening to every word I say, right this second. How intimidating.”

“I heard the _weather_ ,” Carlos says pointedly, and Cecil tries his best to put on his most innocent-looking face. He feels the corners of his mouth curling up, though, and he mentally curses himself for his inability to keep his emotions off his face; if only he could stay expressionless for this exchange.

“Did you?” Cecil settles on blinking at him, eyes wide.

“I _told_ you, Cecil,” Carlos says, clasping his other hand over Cecil’s and holding him still. “I told you how I feel about that _song_.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cecil says, and then Carlos drops his hands, grabs his shirt front, pushes him back against the door, and kisses him. Cecil gasps into his mouth and his hands go automatically to Carlos’ head, threading through his hair. Carlos’ hands are on his chest, pinning him against the door, and Cecil wriggles a little underneath them.

“Carlos!” he finally manages to say, turning his head to the side. “This is completely inappropriate! It’s my place of work! There could be interns wandering around, looking for the frozen yogurt machine!”

“Are there?” Carlos says, his mouth a breath away from Cecil’s cheek. “Is anyone still here?”

“Well, no,” Cecil says, massaging Carlos’ skull, allowing his fingers to tangle in the silky, dark strands. “Also, we don’t have a frozen yogurt machine. We just tell the interns that because we like to see them pretending they’re on official business running all over the station when really they’re just—”

“Good,” Carlos interrupts and then mouths his way over Cecil’s neck, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail on Cecil’s skin. “I heard the song, Cecil.”

“What kind of a mood does that song put you in?” Cecil says, going again for the innocent face. Carlos bites his earlobe, not even pretending to be gentle, and Cecil squeaks. “I see. You don’t really want to talk about it.”

“No,” Carlos says, his voice low and gravelly. His hands slide down over Cecil’s narrow hips and over the small of his back, pulling Cecil closer to him. Then Carlos kisses him again and Cecil kisses back enthusiastically, rolling his hips a little. Carlos is doing that _thing_ with his perfect tongue, and his fingers are slipping up the back of Cecil’s shirt, scratching a little before dipping beneath the waistband of his boxers, and Cecil moans.

“I don’t think we should do this here,” Cecil gasps as he twists his head to the side again, trying to get some air. “I could get in trouble.” He tugs gently on Carlos’ hair, enjoying the quick, stuttered intake of breath that follows.

Carlos’ hands slide all the way down and squeeze his bare ass. His tongue traces the shell of Cecil’s ear before he murmurs, “You want me to stop?”

“No,” Cecil whispers with a shiver. He can feel Carlos’ smile against his neck and he hugs Carlos tight to him, trying to erase all the space between them. Carlos’ hands slip out of his pants and he takes hold of the front of Cecil’s shirt again, twisting the fabric in his fists. Cecil’s eyes widen as he looks up at him.

“Good,” Carlos says, and then presses their lips together, just lightly. “Because _you_ played the song.”

“What song?” Cecil says and Carlos shakes his head, laughing. Cecil watches him, his beautiful Carlos and that perfect smile come to life. Carlos bites his lip, meeting Cecil’s eyes. Suddenly, he’s dragging Cecil across the room, over to his desk, turning him around and pushing him up against the surface. He bends Cecil over, grinding into his ass, curling his body around Cecil’s back. Cecil’s fingers scrabble for something to hold on to and he finds the edge of the desk, trying not to push any buttons that might interrupt the current broadcast, which is six hours of complete silence punctuated by the occasional scream.

“Which of these buttons did you press to play it?” Carlos whispers, rough in Cecil’s ear, his stubble scratching against Cecil’s cheek. His right hand slides down Cecil’s arm until it comes to rest on top of Cecil’s hand; he laces their fingers together and moves them both, trailing them over the many dials and buttons of the radio equipment.

“Carlos, be careful!” Cecil tries to speak calmly, but it comes out as more of a squeal.

“Tell me,” Carlos growls and Cecil presses his hips back against the bulge he can feel against his ass. Carlos’ shaky exhale against his ear is a hot puff of air.

“We can’t play the song right now,” Cecil insists, trying to keep himself steady as Carlos slowly drags their fingers over the knobs.

Carlos sucks on Cecil’s earlobe briefly before repeating, “Tell me.”

“I play it from the computer,” Cecil says, pointing to his laptop, which currently displays his facebook page. Carlos rakes his nails over Cecil’s forearm and Cecil presses back into him again. “Then I turn up this one, and turn down this one.” He lets his fingers come to rest on two sliders, side by side. Carlos’ hand rests on top of his again. Cecil twists his head around so he can try to see him, and Carlos crushes their mouths together, holding tight onto Cecil’s hip with one hand as he curls his fingers into Cecil’s palm with the other.

Carlos is fucking Cecil’s mouth with his tongue and Cecil moans into him, wiggling his ass because he knows it will drive Carlos insane. When they finally break apart, gasping for breath, Cecil lets his head fall forward and Carlos lets go of his hand. A second later, he feels Carlos’ fingers brush over his stomach and then slide up his shirt. Cecil shudders at Carlos’ touch on his bare skin. Soon, Carlos is working at the button of Cecil’s pants and sliding down the zip; then Carlos shoves his pants and boxers down just enough so that he can wrap his fingers around Cecil’s hard cock.

He strokes him once, twice, smooth and slow, his other hand sliding up Cecil’s stomach and farther, splaying his fingers across Cecil’s chest. He holds Cecil close, almost hugging him, and Cecil tilts his head back until it comes to rest on Carlos’ shoulder. Carlos mouths his neck, licking, sucking, and nipping at him while he fists Cecil’s cock. Cecil clings to the desk, panting, the pleasure starting to coil in his lower belly and he lets himself thrust into Carlos’ hand. 

“God,” Cecil groans when Carlos speeds up, his head falling forward. He can feel the sheen of sweat covering his forehead, the heat high in his cheeks, everything building inside of him. Carlos presses a soft, sweet kiss on the tender skin of Cecil’s neck, right below his earlobe, and Cecil is done for. His breath is coming in quick, short gasps, his eyes are squeezed shut, and Carlos’ mouth is on his ear, and Cecil comes, that hot coil of pleasure extending through his body to the tips of his fingers, which are gripping the sound board so hard it almost hurts. It doesn’t matter, though, not with Carlos holding him so tightly against his chest as he works Cecil through it all.

Cecil exhales slowly. His thighs are quivering, and Carlos is still kissing his neck, keeping him upright, and Cecil tries to straighten himself up, turning around to face Carlos again. There’s a jolt in his heart when he sees the look on Carlos’ face—worshipful, Cecil decides, is the only way he can describe it, and it makes him feel so unbelievably _happy_.

Cecil lifts his arms, shaky after being tensed for so long, and rests his wrists on Carlos’ shoulders, twirling the wisps of hair at the base of his neck. Carlos’ arms encircle his waist and he kisses Cecil, slow and sweet. Cecil’s heart is full.

“Do you want me to…” he whispers against Carlos’ lips, moving his hands down to Carlos’ belt, but Carlos smiles and shakes his head.

“I like to wait until the end of the date,” Carlos says, and Cecil purses his lips at him. Carlos just kisses him again before saying, “You played that song on purpose.”

“Me?!” Cecil says, exaggeratedly surprised. “I can’t believe you would even suggest—”

“You made a mess,” Carlos interrupts, looking over Cecil’s shoulder at the desk. Cecil feels himself blush. 

“I do feel a little bad about that,” Cecil says. “I think Intern Ned is still around. I’ll see if he can clean up in here.”

“Wait. Around as in here, at the station? You said we were alone!” Carlos whirls around, as though he’s going to find someone else in the room with them.

“I lied,” Cecil said. “I knew you wouldn’t do it otherwise, and hey. I played that song for a reason.”

“I knew it!” Carlos thrusts his finger in the air like he’s finally proven a scientific hypothesis he’s been studying for years. Cecil just grins, pulling his pants all the way back up and buttoning them.

“Come on. We have to get ready for our date. The sooner we go on it, the sooner we get to the end of it.” Cecil grabs Carlos’ hand and tries to pull him toward the door, but Carlos plants his feet.

“Cecil, you are not actually going to leave this mess for your intern.”

“Why not? That’s what interns are for.”

“ _Cecil._ ”

“Fine,” Cecil says, sighing. He reaches for a few tissues, half-heartedly wiping at the desk. “You’re lucky none of this got on my expensive electronic equipment.”

“That’s not my problem,” Carlos says with an innocent smile. Cecil wants to be mad, or at least fake mad, but when he sees that smile it’s all he can do to resist the urge to squeal like a little girl and jump into his arms. He narrows his eyes instead, and compromises by patting Carlos on the butt as he walks by, pulling the door open.

“Dinner?” Cecil says, holding out his hand. Carlos takes it.


End file.
